BOOK III
PARADISE APART
It was a starless night. A frigid wind blew through the boughs above the Serperior's head, but the lack of leaves caused the branches to simply scratch against one another. The sound quietly echoed off the grey bricks that encased his personal garden, further punctuating the sense of solitude. His servants had already gone for the night. There were no visitors or ambassadors to account for. There weren't even any guards to pace ruts into the fresh blanket of snow. Just him, a standing torch, and an empty cup of tea.
Alexander found his thoughts drifting away from him as he stared off into that pristine darkness. The chronic ache of his scars always brought him back to earth in time. Even while coiled around his perch, it was clear to see the crooked posture he endured from injuries past.
The ghosts of numerous wounds haunted most of his slender form. Flesh more pink than white, hastily mended and deformed, was often surrounded by cracked patches of scales that would never grow back quite right. It was a blessing to have survived as many battles as he had, but no boon ever granted was without payment. He was alive, but it cost him pain, discomfort, and disfigurement.
Twin clouds of mist rolled from his nostrils as he exhaled. The shattered wonder orb at the base of his perch glistened in the torchlight, its magic clearly spent. A down feather as black as the moonless sky flitted in the breeze, still half-frozen in a block of crystal. Perhaps there was an extra step that he had forgotten? If so, the knowledge had long since slipped his aging mind.
A massive shape shifted in the darkness just beyond the jagged silhouettes of the trees. It arrived on the beat on six slender wings and approached the Serperior in the very same moment that it appeared. It came close enough that the aura of the torch illuminated a pair of sharp eyes on its reptilian face. It was truly a scene straight out of a nightmare.
Alexander breathed a sigh of relief and gave a smile. "I was worried that you might not come. It's good to see you, old friend, even if it isn't in the flesh."
The Hydreigon's toothy grin was gruesome enough to give anyone else a heart attack, but to him it was a familiar and comforting sight. "Likewise, Alex. Very much likewise! It has been quite a long time since I've seen your face. There's no reason to use my summons so sparingly! I can simply give you more should you run out, and you know I do enjoy a chat every now and again."
"I know, Hydreigon. I would, but months seem to pass in the blink of an eye these days. There's seemingly no end to the amount of trouble this city can find itself in. It's difficult to justify making free time for myself when I would rather be tackling the next issue before it grows into a worse problem. There are days when I don't get to speak a word to Reinhardt from how busy we both are."
The dragon shook their main head, a slight transparency in their figure showing the flora behind them. "It's no wonder. It's been hundreds of years since a permanent gathering of pokemon has reached the size and scope of Paradise. Keeping such a place running smoothly is truly one of the most immense tasks one could possibly undertake. Most pokemon would have retired from this position a long time ago. You of all people would deserve a rest."
"If only." Alexander weakly chuckled. He habitually attempted to straighten his back, but fell right back into a sideways lean when he tried to relax. "Rein says the same thing, you know. But even still, I have to watch over Paradise. That was my promise to Rein from the very beginning, and I intend to keep it until it's physically impossible." Which may be a time coming sooner rather than later, he mentally added with a frown. "There's no reason to stay on such bleak topics, though. You've surely seen all manner of amazing things on your adventures since I last saw you. I'd love to hear about them while we have the time."
"..."
Hydreigon's friendly expression disappeared. They craned their heads to get a better look at the Serperior, their eyes locked firmly onto his. "Alexander. I know you. You have never been a willing audience for my stories before, and you most certainly wouldn't use one of my orbs just to be one tonight. There is something else on your mind that you don't want to bring up."
Even while some countless thousand miles away, the Voice of Life was uncomfortably adept at seeing straight through him. Alexander glanced over at the flames and started to roll a few reluctant words on his forked tongue before he committed to them. Even then, it took a few moments longer for him to take in the breath to begin his foolish question.
"There were other humans you brought into this world along with me. While the Bittercold stirred, Kyurem's fanatics systematically hunted down and killed each one, yes?"
"All besides you, correct," the dragon nodded.
"What are the chances that another human somehow went undetected and survived until now?"
Their answer was immediate. "Zero percent. You are the only human I summoned from that time period that lived. All others were slain either from Munna's cultists, or from causes unrelated to the Bittercold event but not after its expulsion. I know this for a fact."
"...I see." Alex closed his eyes.
Hydreigon's ethereal body made no sound as they shuffled in place. "It begs the question why you would ask such a peculiar question so long after the fact. What is it are you wondering about, Alex?"
"It's nothing. I was just narrowing out some possibilities is all. I wouldn't want to waste your time with more misguided conjecture."
"Is that so?" They tilted each of their heads. "I just so happen to have all the time in the world. I don't mind a conversation that goes nowhere if it is to soothe the mind of one of my closest friends. What could be so bothersome that you might consider asking such a thing in the first place?"
The Serperior shifted uncomfortably against his own coils. Despite having gone through with the impulse to call Hydreigon here, he would've rather steered away from the topic altogether. Still, in his heart of hearts, Alex knew that he would have never shattered that orb if this wasn't a real concern.
"I believe that there is something powerful living in the streets of Paradise," he finally began. "The city has been going through a particularly rough patch these last few years. The population is getting restless. Internal factions that were previously little more than gangs or guilds have begun to gain all too much momentum. I feel as though something historic has been set in motion from right beneath our noses, and I fear that it is not something Reinhardt and I can come to control."
"You fear that it is another human?" Hydreigon said.
Alexander nodded slowly, glancing off to the side. "Yes. Several nights ago, I encountered a thief while roaming the halls of the capitol building. There was reason to suspect that someone was breaking in and snooping around in the offices for something. I thought that I might be able to catch the perpetrator in the act if I stayed late. It turned out I was right..."
...
The halls were especially silent that night. Alexander passed between spotlights projected by the moon as he slithered across patterns in the marble tiles. His ruby eyes darted from shadow to shadow, an immovable feeling of foreboding lodged in his chest. The recent snowfall glistened brightly from the rooftops down below, casting an ambient light on the ceiling but leaving the floor in an inky fog. The feeling wasn't helped by the wisps of wind that brushed past the windows and feigned all manner of suspicious noise.
It had to have been fate that stayed this night of all nights. He had only been on patrol for a handful of minutes before he heard claws against stone. Footsteps, and from a pokemon he was certain wouldn't have any right to be in this place. The Serperior lowered his head to the floor and stalked after the sound until it suddenly stopped. A thick silence fell over the corridor that not even the whimsical gusts outside dared to break. The sensory organ on his snout picked up no heat signatures, but the ice type that was there wouldn't have left much of an impression.
The intruder stepped out into the window's light. A Weavile, whose dark orange irises were already trained on the Serperior's throat before a single word was exchanged. The grin they wore was almost playful in contrast, like they'd just lost in a game of hide-and-seek. They crossed their arms behind their back and snickered.
"I see," Alexander began, already sizing up the penalty this pokemon would receive for their crimes. "I suppose it's safe to assume you're the pokemon that's been breaking in these past few weeks, then? There is nothing of any real value here. Surely someone with your apparent skill would know that. The only thing to gain from trespassing here is the ability to boast that you could."
"First impressions are everything, Alexander!" the Weavile chimed back in a decidedly feminine voice. She brandished her claws out in front of her and began to pick at the points. "And you know what? I'm a little insulted that you would think I'm doing this just to boast about it! I can't have our first meeting end with you thinking of me as some common thief with a planet-sized ego. Oh no, that would be dead-wrong."
The Serperior narrowed his eyes. "If the judicial system I have put in place holds true, this will be our last meeting. Assuming you are found guilty of the other three counts for trespassing on government property and theft of official documents, that is."
"How scary! You make it sound like I'm going to be executed!" She cried out in an exaggerated manner, talons brought to her forehead in some dramatic pose. Her razor eyes never left his vitals for the duration of the act. "Of course, you do mean imprisonment, don't you? For someone whose job it is to write the laws of this city, that wasn't very concise. Perhaps your talent mostly lies in killing outlaws and adventuring into the unknown. As far as running Paradise is concerned, you're more than content with simply throwing pokemon into cages and letting them rot, or chopping the heads clean off of the more annoying ones. Have you ever wondered if things would be better off without you?"
"If you're referring to any of your acquaintances I've dealt with in the past, threatening me isn't going to get them any less time. Unless you're trying to get more when you join them."
Chuckling, the Weavile shook her head. "No, no no! You misunderstand me! That detective wit of your seems to have finally reached its end. While there certainly are a couple of my people I'd rather have back out on the streets, this isn't about them at all. It's much more personal, you see. I've always fancied a bit of regicide myself."
The wind howled by, seemingly amused by the intruder's quip. Alexander's frown deepened. "Threatening the king puts you in an even deeper hole. Anything else I should add to the list?"
"You think I'm referring to that bumbling Chesnaught on the throne? If first impressions are everything, I'm impressed at how small-minded you really are!" Her demeanor suddenly shifted, the mocking cheeriness wiped away in an instant to reveal the grave expression that was always just below. "Luckily for you, it's much too early to set my plans into motion. I'll just have to settle with a bit of breaking and entering to tide myself over until I can make your death a spectacle. Well-I may be a bit of a glutton, actually. Why don't we have a taste of what's to come, brute?"
Alexander realized all too late that what she said was actually a signal. His spine went rigid at the boom of monstrous stomping behind him. He twisted around just in time for a black mass to fill his vision. Then came a wall of force, crashing into him so suddenly that there was no chance for the pain to flood in. The Serperior found his chance when the beast attempted to grapple him, but failed to realize how slippery a target he was. Whatever the beast was, its hide was so jagged that it managed to break a few scales just in that one escape.
Like a flash of lightning, the tips of Alexander's vines unfurled from their sheaths and flattened at the tips, reflexively slashing at his attacker while in his swift retreat. He hadn't had time to make blades large enough to pierce that thick hide, but the speed of his response alone was enough to threaten the pokemon into backing off. It was a Druddigon, and a relatively massive one at that. Their spines cast mountains of harsh shadows in the moonlight.
The Druddigon charged him once more. Now that the element of surprise had passed, the Serperior could fully unfurl his vines, their sharpened tips flattening even further into a pair of meter-long claymores. The dragon, intimidating as it was, clearly had their wits about them and stopped in place. Alexander was known for the devastating power and range his blades. Never has a frontal assault been met with anything less than debilitating damage.
"By Paradise's constitution, assaulting an official or noble blood under any pretense waives your right to live," the Serperior prattled off, as he has done a disconcerting amount of times before. "Surrender and be captured, or suffer a lawful and immediate execution."
The Druddigon growled as they slowly circled their opponent. "Hmph. Master Alexander's magic words. Now you can kill anyone you want and get away with it. That's what you meant when you wrote that one, isn't it?"
There was a flash of movement in the darkness. Alexander's eyes had a hard time following the Weavile, but his reflexes didn't. His blades swung around and gouged into the stone just inches from where she was about to move. Not wasting a second, the Serperior coiled his neck and lunged, his fangs trained for the center of mass. The Weavile was more than quick enough to slip away back into the darkness, nearly chuckling as she did so.
Alexander attempted to rear up and reestablish his dominance over the space, but the Druddigon was took advantage of the distraction and slammed him into the granite wall behind him. Their claws raked across stone rather than flesh as Alexander weaved through the barrage and ducked low.
In less than a second, he shortened one of his blades into a dagger and plunged it into a soft pocket of flesh in the Druddigon's shoulder. He would have pressed the blade deeper and twisted, had the dragon not grabbed hold of him in the heat of the moment and threw him at the window.
His body was a cannonball, crashing through the glass with such little resistance that he hardly felt the impact. The vertigo, however, immediately punched him in the chest and exploded through his body like an electrical current. The rush of cold air and blurring light was all-encompassing. Time seemed to slow in the free-fall. His eyes locked onto the passing side of the capitol building, and almost instinctively his vines shot out and reached for a stone pillar.
He caught on, but the rest of his momentum carried him directly into the wall with a disorienting smash. The muscles in his upper back erupted into a searing pain as they bore the weight that his vines had to catch. A breathless grunt left his throat, and he was left dangling precariously above the rooftops of his city. The pain dulled with time as seconds passed by and he gathered his wits. It was almost peaceful up here, a breeze blowing at the powdered snow he'd disturbed on his way down. Most assassination attempts never made it this far. As the Serperior slowly started to pull himself up the side of the building, he let his frustration push him past the flaring aches.
It took a great deal of effort, but by sliding himself into the nooks of the stonework and ascending with his vines, Alexander eventually made it back up to the window he'd shattered. When his eyes adjusted to the low light and found no immediate threats, he carefully slid over the jagged edges and into the corridor. His foes were generous enough to leave him a trail of blood to follow. While it was too dark to reliably see with his own eyes, his forked tongue picked up the scent with ease. He was so confident in the hunt that the Serperior took a leisurely pace so that he could recover his stamina.
The blood took him down several floors and into a small cluster of offices. There were thankfully no civilians or bureaucrats around this late in the day, but the damage those two criminals had caused on their way through was aggravating enough. Ransacked desks covered with shredded bits of paper. Toppled bookcases and smashed drawers. Three-fingered claw marks carved into wood, mostly coming in the form of a symbol whose meaning slipped the Serperior's mind in the moment. If they survived his judgement, their list of convictions would be even longer yet.
One floor later, the trail ended. Alexander sensed the heat of the Druddigon just ahead. He picked up the pace then, the rich odor of blood dancing across his tongue. His vines extended into massive blades and bounced at his sides, ready in a moment's notice to cut down the Weavile should she attempt to ambush him. Luckily enough, she was still beside the dragon when he turned the corner.
"What?!" the Weavile shouted in surprise, leaping backwards into the spotlight of a window. "How are you still here?! I didn't expect you to die from that, but you should've at least made a nice splat in the snow!"
The Serperior snickered. "You referenced my past career as an adventurer, correct? Surely you didn't think a fall with that much room for error would be enough to stop me. The mountains up north are much more perilous. Now, shall we continue where we left off?"
Still gripping at his shoulder, the Druddigon took a stomp forward. "Fine. I'll follow you down this time to make sure you're gone."
"Brute, dammit! Not now! I told you already!" screamed the Weavile. She backed away from the window and threw a heavy spine of ice through the center, its shattered pieces raining down on the street below. "Come on! Get moving before I cut your hamstrings and drag you out!"
The dragon relented with a reluctant growl before they finally turned around. Their huge form crashed through what little glass remained on the fringes and quickly disappeared. The Weavile hopped up onto the frame and shot a parting grin at Alexander.
"Until we meet again, Alexander! And we will meet again! I'll be looking forward to running a claw through your windpipe!"
She made the jump and sunk into the skyline. Alex slithered up to the window and peered out at them with a frown, noticing how close the rooftops were to this side of the building. The two thieves had cleared the deathly gap and started to make their escape over the sloped planes of tiles. He couldn't help but scoff at the way they continued to underestimate him. He then backed up a fair distance, braced his aching muscles for yet another exertion, and propelled himself out the same window. The ground disappeared out from beneath his belly, but this time he was in control of the descent.
A harsh landing awaited him. Nearly slipping straight off right away, Alexander lowered himself to make contact with as much surface area as possible. His tail might've gone off the edge, but the rest of him outpaced the snow and pulled up onto the rest of the barrel tiles. The Weavile must've glanced over her shoulder at the noise, as she seemed to have stopped in place two rooftops away, apparently stunned that he had the gall to attempt the jump at all. Just when the Druddigon thought to look back, her shout of frustration echoed out over Post District and urged them to move faster.
The slanted planes of ice and clay would have been a difficult terrain for almost anyone to keep their footing on. For the Serperior, whose center of mass was so spread out and flexible, it was almost no different from any other hill. Of course, the Weavile's short body and curved claws were practically built for this sort of terrain in the first place. It was the Druddigon that struggled the most, their wings more useful for short bursts of stability than actual flight. Whenever the criminals attempted to lose Alexander in a dizzying series of turns and jumps, the dragon's stumbling footprints made them all too easy to find again.
Alexander must have pursued them over a dozen city blocks. His skin had turned numb and his eyes stung from the frigid night air, but a glorious zephyr filled his lungs with every breath. It was rare from him to have to go all-out these days, and as much as he loathed to admit it, facing a competent foe was way more refreshing than another five months of uneventful bureaucracy. Even if tomorrow morning he'd feel the consequences of his exertions thricefold, the thought now was lost to adrenaline. This was the life he had left behind all those years ago. The only thing that mattered was surviving the next minute. Perilous. Exhilarating.
When it became clear that escape was no longer an option, the criminals offered him a choice. The Weavile pivoted away and hopped onto the battlements of a guard wall while the Druddigon continued to trudge away on their original path. If he chased the dragon down, it was almost certain he'd be able to capture them alive. He would've ordered any guard to make the same choice.
Regardless of any sound logic, Alexander went after the Weavile.
She made a grave error turning off when she did. This block existed primarily on the edge of the marketplace, meaning that these rooftops were an island surrounded by wide seas of streets and stalls. There would be nowhere left to jump to and no clear avenues of escape. Swearing up a storm with what little breath filled her lungs, the criminal backed herself up into a corner and brandished her claws.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?!" she cried out through bared fangs. "It's like you want me to slit your throat! Well Christmas ain't coming early this year, pretender! I've got much more work to do!"
Alex struggled to speak, the simple act of wheezing sending waves of needles across his back. "Pretender? You must be truly delusional if you still think that I'm somehow the ruler of this place. I may be a founder, but I merely manage law and order. No more and no less."
"Will you just shut the hell up already? You're even more insufferable in person than I could've ever imagined! Did you honestly expect your little charade to fool everyone in the city? As if that Chesnaught's anything more than a seat warmer to the throne of a human! There's no other place for humans than on top!"
"A hu-..." the Serperior stopped. His expression went dark in the moonlight. "...I haven't heard that word said out loud in a long time. There aren't many who remember what I am. It's not as if I'm hiding it, but...who told you that?"
The Weavile straightened her back and laughed. "Oh? Curious now, are we? Since we're still in the business of first impressions and you're in a listening mood, how about I just get this little fact out of the way? This city rightfully belongs to me, Alexander! That silver tower is where I deserve to be sleeping each night! The bumbling idiot you call a friend is sitting in my throne! By the time I'm finished, I'll have written my name in your blood on every wall to prove it!"
"What are you talking about?" Alex began to shout. Something was wrong. For as lofty as these threats were, she didn't sound dishonest in the least. "Explain yourself! Don't just go rambling on without reason! These accusations are serious!"
Her laughing reached a higher pitch, like he'd just told the punchline to a joke. "They're serious now, are they?! Then allow me to make myself crystal-fucking-clear! Your days were numbered since the moment I came into this world! Carve the name Chenza into your skull, and remember that you aren't the only human in this city!"
With that, the Weavile extended her arms out from her sides and fell backwards over the edge of the roof. Alexander, dazed from what he had just heard, took an extra few seconds to realize what had happened and rushed over to the ledge. His ruby eyes scoured every shadow, every corner, every nook and cranny that she could possibly hide in. There weren't even footprints in the snow.
It was as if she never existed in the first place.
...
Hydreigon's brow furrowed in the strained torchlight. A million things must have been running through the dragon's vast and wise mind, but it all accumulated into a single utterance from the bottom of his throat.
"Hm."
"It's been gnawing at me ever since," Alexander concluded his story with a sigh. His vine impulsively reached for the empty cup once more, looking for any reason to fidget about. "It could all just be hyperbole. I won't dismiss the possiblity that they could've been lying. Even just thinking about that, I can't help but wonder why someone would go through the trouble of making up such a story in the first place? Why would anyone lie about being human?"
"Indeed," Hydreigon muttered, mostly to themselves. "To most, humans are still fantastical creatures from fairy tales. It's rather unlikely that anyone would go around claiming to be one without meaning it."
"Do you think they could be telling the truth?"
The dragon shook their heads. "I don't know."
The Serperior sank even lower on his perch, his muscles loose against the grip of the wood. His gaze wandered to anywhere else. "I was afraid you'd say that. There's no way for you to tell, huh? Not without them being right in front of you."
"I see why you might feel the need to contact me about this. If it turns out that there is another human among us, and not one we know the origins of, then-"
"Then calamity is sure to befall us," Alexander readily finished. "I know what it means. I would know more than anyone else. Humans don't appear naturally in this world. They are brought into existence for a reason, and that reason has never meant anything short of a catastrophe. And to hear such a claim from someone who would wish such terrible things on Paradise...I fear it may not be something I can deal with on my own."
Another hum rumbled from Hydreigon's chest, the sound so clear that it was almost like they were really here. "Alex. You know I am not allowed to mettle in the affairs of humans in this world. Even if we don't know whether this pokemon is one or not, I'm not comfortable with intervening. If you feel that you need help from an outside source, you have more than enough influence to get it. And you could always conscript the help of a fellow human."
"Fellow human?" Alex turned his confused expression back to the dragon. "What are you talking about? Aside from the possibility of this stranger, I should be the only human on this entire continent."
"You know another human, Alexander."
"I don't know what you're-" He stopped, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. A painful silence came and went. "No."
"If you fear what fate has in store for you and your city, this is the most sensible course of action. I understand that you have your past. I know how difficult it would be to ask such a thing, but I only offered it as an option. If you and Paradise are truly in danger of something as incredible as another human, there is no better way to combat such a threat than fighting fire with fire."
It had been a long time since Alexander last recalled where he had buried these memories. A brilliant plan to conquer nature. A forest ripe with resources and willing folk. A few hard choices he thought he had to make, and a pair of amber eyes staring back at him. The smell of smoke was almost as fresh on his tongue as the regret that filled his chest at this very moment. How could he possibly ask him for help? After all this time and every mistake he had ever made, how?
"My time here is fading," the dragon continued to say, a sad look on their fearsome face. They looked up to the treetops and regarded the darkness like they were seeing somewhere else. The transparency of their form became markedly more intense in the following seconds. "Do what you must to protect what you cherish. Remember that I shall support you no matter your decision, Alexander. And no matter the outcome. Do not hesitate to call upon me whenever you need."
A gale blew through the garden and whisked Hydreigon's image away. Alex shivered and squinted against the ominous breeze. He was alone once more. The loneliness came flooding back in from all angles until it crashed together into an almighty quiet, all the while his torch sputtered previously on the brink of being extinguished.
How long did he have to think? When would he have to act? If calamity was to befall the city, at what point would it be too late to ask? Alexander stared daggers at the blanket of snow on the ground, nearly forgetting to breathe as old wounds tensed up from the stress. The coming winter was going to be one of the harshest he's ever seen. Of all the uncertainties, this much was sure to be true.
